False Alarm
by TheTBone
Summary: Stef and Mariana have a heart-to-heart about the car accident. Missing scene from 3x01, "Wreckage." Oneshot.


Mariana curled up on the couch, Skippy the Turtle—Jesus' favorite stuffed childhood companion—clutched firmly in her grasp. His fur was slightly matted, his front right flipper especially worn from years of being loved on.

Perhaps it was childish to seek comfort in a toy, but it was working, at least a little. Mariana was willing to sacrifice her mature demeanor for tonight if it meant she could get a few hours of peace.

She peered into Skippy's eye, the glossy plastic like a miniature funhouse mirror. She faintly saw her reflection: distorted, like how she felt inside. However, despite the warped shape, her expression remained nonchalant. She didn't looked frazzled on the outside, which was what was important. As long as she could keep her irrational worries how they belonged—internal and invisible—she would be okay.

She continued gazing at the stuffed animal for a few moments, her eyes beginning to glaze over. She was tired. Exhausted, really. It was pushing four o'clock, and she had only managed to get two hours of sleep thus far. She had only averaged around four every night for the past few weeks, and it was beginning to take its toll.

A faint click ripped Mariana from her trance, and the room was illuminated in a soft glow. Shoving Skippy behind her back, her eyes widened as footsteps padded down the rest of the stairs.

Stef rubbed her eyes, making her way to the kitchen. Mariana held her breath. Maybe Stef would be too out of it to notice her.

Her mother was mere paces away from her destination before doing a double take. Realizing she had been spotted, Mariana sunk further into the couch, bracing herself for the inevitable interrogation.

Stef flopped next to her, grabbed a blanket, and haphazardly threw it around both of them. "Can't sleep?"

Desperately seeking a distraction, Mariana gripped the top of the fabric, picking at a loose thread. "Just wasn't tired I guess."

Stef nodded slowly, lifting her chin in a way that let Mariana know that, while she was letting it go for now, she didn't believe her. "What do you got there?" she asked, crooking her neck to peek behind Mariana.

Mariana pushed herself towards the back of the couch, Skippy's plastic eye digging into her tailbone. "Nothing."

Stef raised an eyebrow. "You know, if you don't just show me I'm going to assume the worst. What is it? Booze? Drugs?" She gasped theatrically, "please don't tell me it's a Justin Bieber poster."

The joke got a tiny smile in response, but was soon replaced with a lip bite. She reluctantly scooted up, grabbing the toy from behind her.

"Aw hey, it's Skippy," Stef said, picking it up and admiring it affectionately. "Haven't seen you a while, little guy. I'm surprised Jesus didn't take you to school."

Mariana shot her a side glance, eyebrows furrowed.

"Okay, not surprised," Stef amended with a laugh, "but a little sad," she grew more solemn. "Jesus used to bring you everywhere, and now he moved away without you." Mariana shifted uncomfortably. "My babies are growing up," Stef said with a frown, giving Skippy one last pet before setting him between her and her daughter.

"So," Stef said, propping her elbow up on the back of the couch in order to look at her, "why are you up?"

Mariana shrugged, turning to stare at the blank television screen.

"Why won't you tell me?" Stef asked bluntly. "What, are you and Skippy sneaking around or something?" she teased.

This time Mariana didn't crack a grin. "I just..feel stupid," she admitted softly. "You'll think I'm stupid."

Stef scoffed. "Right, like I could ever think my little STEM genius was stupid," she said, running her fingers through her daughter's hair.

"I had a nightmare," Mariana said almost inaudibly.

"About?"

"About the accident."

Stef sat up straighter, surprised at the girl's confession. She had thought this would be something more along the lines of Mat leaving to go on tour. She hadn't sensed any big behavioral changes or signs the accident still had her shaken up.

"Okay," Stef nodded, switching gears from what she'd expected. "So far I'm missing the stupid part."

"Well, I don't know," Mariana said, struggling to express her thoughts. "It wasn't even really a big deal. Everyone is fine now."

"Yes, but you didn't know that at the time," Stef rationalized, still smoothing her hair.

"So? It's over, I should be over it," Mariana argued, picking at the blanket more brutally now. "Everyone is alive. We were fortunate. I don't know why I can't just forget about it and move on."

"Honey, that's normal," Stef shook her head in reassurance. "Yes, thank god everyone is okay, but it was still a scary, traumatic event, one you were very much in the middle of. It takes time to heal from that, mentally longer than physically more often than not. Just because nobody died doesn't mean you're not allowed to be upset about it."

Mariana kept her eyes on her lap, Stef's reasoning and assurance not having their intended soothing effect. "It just feels silly worrying about something that already happened and didn't turn out to be that big of deal. Silly and…" she paused, hesitating, "and selfish."

"How so?" Stef asked, knitting her eyebrows together.

Mariana took a deep breath, her emotions causing it to quiver. "Callie and Jude's mom died in an accident. We were lucky—they weren't."

Stef titled her head, her heart dropping at the illogical guilt that her child had been suffering from. She opened her mouth to speak, but Mariana continued.

"It just feels…I don't know," Mariana blew out a frustrated breath, "it just feels wrong to mourn something that could have happened right in front of people it actually happened to." She shook her head in defeat. "I'm probably not even making sense."

"You're making sense," Stef rebutted, wrapping an arm around her and rubbing her shoulder. "You are. But, love, Callie and Jude don't have a monopoly on pain. You're allowed to feel scared and sad too, you know. You're entitled to feel anything. And telling yourself that you're not allowed to hurt over something because someone has it worse is like not letting yourself be happy because someone else has it better. That doesn't make any sense, right?"

"Right," Mariana agreed, albeit with less confidence than Stef would have liked.

"And I don't think Callie and Jude would ever feel frustrated or resentful if you showed that this was bothering you. I think that they would sympathize and try to be there to support you, yes?"

"Of course," Mariana said quickly, locking eyes with Stef almost defensively. "It's not that. It's just, _I_ feel like I should be over it by now is all."

"Well your feelings are your feelings. They're all valid."

Mariana nodded, distractedly fiddling with the throw pillow now.

Stef pursed her lips, contemplating her next move. The inspirational, therapy-style lecture wasn't cutting it, and she knew what she had to do. She liked to shield her children, and viewed her own vulnerabilities as weak spot in that shield. However, as she had learned over the years, sometimes the only way to get someone to open up to you was to first open yourself to them. "I get nightmares too," she admitted.

Mariana turned to look at her, truly engaging for the first time in the conversation. She searched her eyes. "About the accident?" she asked, sounding almost hopeful. There was an underlying tone that craved credibility. Connection. Validity that she truly wasn't crazy.

"Yeah," Stef nodded, smiling sadly. "I just had one, actually. I was coming down here to get some water, clear my head. That was a pretty scary day for me too."

"I bet," Mariana empathized.

"The minute I saw that car my heart sunk. Two of my babies were in there," she said, tightening her jaw as she felt her throat start to close and brew the familiar sting of tears. "I couldn't imagine," she shook her head sharply. "I wouldn't _let_ myself imagine what would happen if I lost you," she said, swiping away the tear that managed to escape. "I knew that if I did I would never be okay—never be whole—again."

Mariana bit her nail, a bit unnerved at her mother's fragile composure. She could count on half a hand how many times she'd seen her break down in her life. She was the pillar of the family, the one that made everyone feel safe and secure. Even at the scene of the accident, when the uncertainties were still there and the panic was fresh, she hadn't let her guard down.

Mariana wanted to help, wanted to be there like Stef was for her the day of the accident. She tentatively put her hand on the top of Stef's, which Stef immediately grasped, grateful for the comfort.

Stef closed her eyes, sniffling and taking a few deep breaths before regaining her composure. "But then I saw you standing there," she smiled, pulling Mariana to her. "You were there and you were okay and for a second so was I. I can't tell you how relieved I was to have you there, safe in my arms," she said, giving her a squeeze.

"Me too," Mariana said earnestly, snuggling into Stef's side.

The two sat like that for a moment, cuddled and bonded by an experience nobody else could fully understand.

"I didn't know if I was ever going to see them again," Mariana said, her voice cracking. "I thought I was going to lose three people forever in one split second. I thought I was going to lose another baby sister I never got to meet." Stef sucked in a breath at the mention of Frankie, allowing another tear to fall.

"I thought I was going to lose Ana again, right after she had just come back into my life and I started to really get to know her." Mariana's breath hitched, whimpering before saying her next words. "I thought I was going to lose Jesus," she sobbed.

Stef knew there were no words that could ever truly soothe that fear, so she settled instead for resting her chin on her daughter's head. One hand protectively cradled the back of it while the other rubbed soothing circles on her back. She hoped the physical affection could act as a tether, grounding her into the safe reality of the present rather than letting her mind draw her into the vivid memories of the past.

"For so long it was us against the world, I couldn't even imagine…" Mariana said, hiccuping before yawning, hysterical and drained. 

"I know," Stef said, kissing her forehead. "I know."

Another wave of silence overtook them, Mariana calming down as Stef held her. She felt relief, a feeling of cleansing rushing over her. She felt refreshed, emotionally at least.

"It feels weird not having him here now," Mariana admitted, growing drowsy.

"I can imagine," Stef replied. "You've been partners in crime since the womb," she said, playfully poking her on the nose.

"I mean, I know we would've split up for college in a few years anyway, but it still feels so strange. Everything is just changing so fast."

Stef laughed. "You're telling me, kid. But you know, even though he's not that far away, and even though you're his sister and it's against sibling code to admit it, it's okay to miss him."

"I do," Mariana nodded. "Headphone stealing, bathroom hogging and all."

Stef snorted, catching a glimpse of the clock below the television. It was already past 4:30. "We should probably head back to bed, what do you say?"

Mariana nodded, rubbing her eyes with the heel of her hand, a habit she'd had since she was young.

"Listen," Stef said as the two stood from the couch and stretched, "if there's anything I can do to help you deal with this let me know. If you want to look into therapy, we can definitely do that, or if you just need an ear or a shoulder, I'm here."

"I know," Mariana said her lips curving into a smile. "Thanks."

"Anytime," Stef replied. "Goodnight, babe," she said, planting a kiss on her forehead before turning towards the stairs.

"Wait," Mariana said, stopping her in her tracks, "there is one thing you could do right now."

"Yeah?"

Mariana nudged the floor with her toe. "Can I sleep with you tonight?"

Stef grinned, holding out her hand to the girl. "Of course, my love."

As sore as her eyes were and as raw as her throat felt, Mariana felt better than she had in weeks. She had a feeling she would have a better night's sleep than she'd had in weeks too as she followed Stef up the stairs—one hand on the railing, the other holding Skippy.

 **Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed it. If you're feeling generous, a review would be awesome. I would love to know what you thought!**

 **Special thanks to Allia, Lizzie, and Grace for their feedback and assistance with this story!**


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